


Collar

by SlasherKisss



Category: The Collector Series (Movies)
Genre: Biting, Breathplay, Choking, Dom/sub, F/M, Knifeplay, Light BDSM, Master/Pet, Petplay, reader is afab but I tried to keep the words mostly gender neutral, very kinky and indulgent, you're asa's favorite little toy and he loves to destroy you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22922362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherKisss/pseuds/SlasherKisss
Summary: You had lost count of the days that he had kept you in this room now. An apparent fascination with you combined with your initial reaction to submit and please him in whatever he wanted you to do had lead you to the current situation of being here. Though the plush king size bed with its silken sheets of an undetermined color (probably black. you knew that he liked black) was extremely comfortable, it did nothing for the pain of you bound together wrists as the ropes bit into your flesh.---You get kidnapped by The Collector and, as it turns out, you seem to be his new favorite plaything.
Relationships: Asa Emory/Reader, Asa Emory/You, The Collector/Reader, The Collector/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 68





	Collar

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an ask/prompt I got on my tumblr blog (slasherkisss)! I posted it there but it was long enough to be its own one shot so it's going here now too because we need more Asa content.

You heard the door of your room open and your entire body tensed up. Though you couldn’t see through the blindfold placed securely around your eyes you could smell him. The scent of formaldehyde and blood lingering on polished still and nitrile as the gust of wind from the opening wood sent a waft of the outside’s dangerous smells into your small, stagnant room. All you could do was whimper beneath the ball-gag placed securely between your lips, drool slithering out from the side as you shifted your naked form uncomfortably on the bed.

He was here for you again.

You had lost count of the days that he had kept you in this room now. An apparent fascination with you combined with your initial reaction to submit and please him in whatever he wanted you to do had lead you to the current situation of being here. Though the plush king size bed with its silken sheets of an undetermined color (probably black. you knew that he liked black) was extremely comfortable, it did nothing for the pain of you bound together wrists as the ropes bit into your flesh. 

He had relented on your legs, getting you a set of comfortable padded, leather cuffs with a chain hold in the center. It was for your collar, the chain of the material clearly made for a dog looping between them and keeping your neck hunched at a rate that made your back ache and your body whine with protest no matter how much you tried to sit up as you struggled weakly.

You knew struggling wouldn’t do any good, though. But he seemed to like it.

The Collector was a large man. You couldn’t remember much of his appearance through his terrifying mask and deep, black eyes, but you could feel him every time he came to you like this. Hands, sometimes gloved and sometimes bare, reached out to stroke your hair, letting his fingertips linger on your cheek. 

Today his fingers trailed to the ball gag in your lips, tapping the ball before reaching around to undo its clasp. You gasped, spit falling as your jaw settled into a more comfortable position. The moment of reprieve was short, however, as his fingers reached out to touch your lips, soon pushing passed them with determination.

You gagged slightly on the three appendages unceremoniously placed against your tongue, knowing the silent instruction of lathering the bare fingertips in as much spit as you could muster through your dry, dehydrated mouth. There was something nice about feeling him shivery. Feeling him react to your movements as you did was almost rewarding. As though you craved his approval. Craved his acceptance.

Maybe you did.

His fingers were pulled from you before you felt it. His hands reach down for the chain to your collar and you shivered in anticipation without meaning to. The Pavlovian response had been ingrained into your mind as the tug on the chain tightened the leather around your neck, cutting your air off ever so slightly and making you gasp, arching into the movement with a whimper. You heard him chuckle.

When he pulled the collar, it meant he was in a good mood. It meant that you were going to be treated nicely tonight.

It was better than the bad nights, when he would be so frustrated that he would push you onto the bed and slice your skin with knives, making sure you counted each and every movement of the blade on your body. He cut your tongue many times before, your appendage sticking out and shivering s you tasted your own blood between your lips. 

Instead the collar was tugged and, like the obedient dog you were, you moved with it. You crawled to him as best as you could with your hands bound, your sounds soft and weak gasps dying on your lips as he caressed your skin. You leaned into his touch without thinking about it, the role natural to you now as you had learned to live with it. As you accepted it in a way that seemed to make him proud. He never said anything, nor did he suggest anything, but you knew. You always seemed to know.

You were nothing but his dog. His pretty little doll with a beautiful collar around your neck kept in your box for him to use. You didn’t understand, at first, why it turned you on but now? It was always better not to question.

Just for him to take the lead.

He tugged hard, bringing your face forward so that his lips could crash down against your own. You felt the edges of his mask cut into your face, but it didn’t stop you from moaning and whimpering like you knew he enjoyed. The growl that broke in his own throat was a fierce one, demanding subordination before foreplay tonight, and you obeyed by opening your mouth willingly so that his tongue could explore your cavern with greedy want. 

He tugged the collar to one side and your head followed, tilting it so that he could pull his lips from yours, giving them one last territorial bite hard enough to draw a small tinge of blood, before finding your neck. There his teeth dug into your flesh, finding purchase and making you cry out as blood welled in the cuts, only to have him lap it up and place softer and more tender kisses in their wake. 

The Collector pulled you on top of him now and you could feel the outline of his dick, hard and throbbing between his legs, against your aching core. You ground down on him in desperation, a craving for friction he would not offer. You were met with a sharp, humming tut between his lips and another tug on the collar that tightened its circumference, cutting off your air and making you gasp against parted lips. He held it there as you stilled, watching with fascinated eyes as your body spasmed through the sudden cut off of oxygen, before relenting just as you were about to pass out. When the air returned you gasped, falling forward against him and all but pawing with needy desire towards him.

“Please,” You whispered out with a weak, begging echo to your soar throat, “Please, please, please-!”

You knew he liked it when you begged. Whether it was better when it was terror or arousal, you still couldn’t tell. Either way your answer was a feral growl and a nearly inhuman clicking in the back of his throat before you were tugged up by the collar and thrown backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress and your knuckles digging into your spine where they were tied. You arched your back to avoid the pain, whimpering as the collar tugged again, signaling you to raise your hips as his hand slapped at the bare skin against your thighs. You gasped, feeling the sting and growing redness before arching with loyalty to him, feeling just the slightest brush of his body on your aching, wound up center.

One hand explored your body while the other kept a firm hold on your collar, keeping you in check like the pretty little dog you were. He pinched nipples and twirled them expertly between his fingertips, making you keen as his hand lightly traveled from your stomach to your nether regions, fingertips stroking your folds with dexterous fingers. You heard him chuckle at how wet you were for him already, his fingertips curling within you and thrusting in a way that made you writhe under him.

“Please!” You sobbed this plea out, a last desperate cry for what you wanted the most yet he still took his time, watching your reactions and giving your collar small warning tugs before cutting your airway off completely again. You thrashed as you lost breath both from the collar and from the way his fingers curled just right inside of you, stretching you and preparing you for the treat you knew was going to come. Bending you to his whim like he was so proud to train you to do.

Perhaps that was why he was so proud of you. It was more of a pride on himself. You were proof that he was scary enough to break someone. To destroy them and bend them into something that would only love him. Did you only love him because he made you, you wondered? Molded you into the mess of a thing you were now, with your blood and arousal dripping all over your beautiful satin sheets as you begged for the cock of a man who had killed hundreds?

You weren’t allowed to think on it anymore as you felt him, the girthy head of his throbbing cock pressing against you and then sliding into you with practiced ease. The stretch was an addiction, hot and full inside of you and you cried out with delight, excited ‘thank-you’s falling against your mouth as he set a brutal place with immediate, pistoling movements of his strong hips. One hand held your waist and the other continued to pull at the collar as the soft noises of his grunts and moans only stimulated you more and more.

You lost yourself in the pleasure, the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix with every well time thrust making your brain turn to puddy as your insides churned around him. As you clenched tight on his waist and breathily moaned nonsensical words. You would have loved to moan his name one day, hearing syllables fall from your lips so eager to please and request mercy from a man who was a God to you. You hungered for his approval as he held you by your waist and pulled you closer, making the depth of his thrusts even more intense.

Yet all you could do was blubber as tears fell through your mask, staining the inside of the fabric as you curled your toes and begged to cum.

“Please! Can I please? I’ll be good I’ve been so good-so good! Sir, please let me I want to-hh-ah~.”

Your please seemed to work tonight. Two quick, sharp tugs at the collar telling you all you need to know about what he wanted from you.

_Cum._

You did so, clenching around his dick and arching your back so that you could feel all of him as you soaked him and the sheets below you, whimpering and gasping out nothing as the breath was stolen from your aching windpipe. He found delight in hearing the start of your screams only to cut them off with a sharp tug, suffocating you in your own euphoria but you were too delighted with your orgasm to care, even as he fucked you through it with an unrelenting pace before finally stilling inside of you.

Your insides felt warm and gooey as his cum sunk into you. As it dribbled from between your thighs and you heard the shuddering breath of The Collector leave him from above you. The two of you stilled like that for a long moment, the sound of nothing but white noise filling your ears as you caught your breath, the collar’s tightness relenting enough for you to do so.

When he finally pulled out of you, you felt his fingertips touching your lips again, admiring the swollen and parted gasps that echoed from it. Loving the way your tears streaked down your face as you wiggled to find a comfortable position. Another tug and you stilled, understanding the message. 

—

Asa admired the spent being below him. The way the sweat on their body mixed with the scabbing blood from bites and kisses that he had drawn forth with sadistic ease. The black and red leather of the collar looked beautiful when accompanied by the hickies nestling around it. The silver chain he held firmly in his hands glittered in the low light he kept in the room of his best little pet. 

He rubbed his thumb one last time over their mouth, pushing down the bottom lip to see how their teeth looked for a moment. The gum was dry. They needed water soon.

He gripped the ball gag placed lazily on the side of the table and secured it again. He loved the feel of their mouth as it parted with practiced ease, accepting of the routine that would come after a training session such as this one. Oh, how easy they were to train. How quick to obey with the proper encouragement and sharp asphyxiations. Asa took another moment to admire his work across their skin before touching one last time at their thighs, feeling them tense as he smeared some of the mixing fluids across them before standing up. 

They didn’t ask if they would be allowed to clean up. They knew he would return with a warm rag and do it for them. Then again, Asa mused, he could leave and simply not come back. They would wait patiently, uncomplaining as the cum dried across their body and their form was raked with shivers and thirst. They would die like that, waiting patiently like the dog they were until they faded into nothingness.

Oh, but they were such a good pet weren’t they? Asa could never hurt his favorite like that. 

_Perhaps a new collar would be nice, though._


End file.
